


Lightweight

by dontfretbaby



Series: Lovin' In The Limelight [1]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, publicist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2820716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontfretbaby/pseuds/dontfretbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Colfer is a New York City publicist at the start of his career, who just got assigned a new client – Darren Criss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightweight

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my betas Stacey & Ellie. 
> 
> Send me your feedback on [Tumblr](http://www.dontfretbaby.tumblr.com)!

 

 

 

_I'm a lightweight._

_Better be careful what you say_

_With every word I'm blown away_

_You're in control of my heart_

Apparently Chris struts.

At least that’s what the receptionist in the lobby of ID PR tells him when he comes into work.

Chris likes to think he walks with purpose. Plus, it’s a hot New York day in May so if he doesn’t rush into his air-conditioned office, he’ll melt.

Sure, the place is about the size of a shoebox, but it was _his_ shoebox, and he earned it.

After taking out more student loans than he’d like to admit to attend NYU, he majored in public relations, then graduated, with honors, of course, and scored a paid internship at his current employer.

Interns don’t _usually_ end up with their own office after a year of getting coffee for senior account executives and trying to stay out of CEOs’ crosshairs. But Chris had managed to slither his way into a few key meetings with some of the senior execs, where he let his face be seen.

He also single-handedly dealt with a _certain_ A-list actress who had a panic attack before the Emmys. Chris actually had to write her acceptance speech. Thankfully, it was pretty good because she won. The way Chris handled the whole situation really caught the eye of the top boss and he was hired shortly after that.

It’s been about a year and he’s really finding a niche for himself at one of the best public relation firms in the country.

Not bad for a kid who still sets the record at East Clovis High School for the most times being pushed into a locker in a single week.

“Yo, Colfer, I’m warning you. I am fighting a hella bad hangover so put it on mute this morning, ’kay?”

Okay, Chris doesn’t have his _own_ office.

He’s forced to share it with Charlotte, a fellow associate account executive in the talent department. She’s the type of girl who wears a lot of crop tops and goes to every music festival in the city, but Charlotte is friendly nonetheless.

“I will try and keep my yodelling to a minimum while I work,” Chris responds.

Even though he’s only been with the firm a year, he has almost a full plate of clients. Sure, they weren’t A-list celebs like Sarah Jessica Parker or Ben Affleck, but that didn’t make them any less important. They’re mostly stand-up comedians-turned-witty sitcom sidekicks and a few indie movie actors. In fact, one of his clients just hit big at the Sundance Film Festival.

They’re low maintenance and don’t give him too much trouble. Charlotte, on the other hand, dabbles in all of the musicians at the firm, normally the teenage heartthrob of the moment.

From dealing with record label executives, which are _far_ worse than movie or television execs, to juggling the paparazzi, and not to mention the unrelenting fans, that clientele comes with so much baggage that it can be a publicist’s nightmare.

Chris starts the day with his normal routine of checking media websites and blogs, basically scouting the overall media landscape to see if any of his clients are in the press, which thankfully they all are, for _good_ reasons.

So after an hour of doing that, answering e-mails and finalizing his schedule for the week, it’s time for the Monday morning meeting. It’s a weekly tradition where the executives go over highlights with their current clients, and where they get assigned new clients who are entering the firm.

Chris is one person short from his quota so he knows he’ll be getting a new client today, but he’s had a great track record so far.

Office gossip is that Ellen Page signed on to the firm last week so Chris is crossing his fingers for that account.

In the spacious glass-walled conference room, Chris finds a leather seat toward the front where he knows the senior vice president, Carrie, will be sitting. She’s been in the business for over fifteen years, and is a mentor figure to Chris.

She shuffles in shortly after with her designer heels clicking on the white tile floors and takes a seat next to him.

“Hey, Chris. How are you?” She whispers as more people start to fill the room.

“I’m doing well. Congratulations on Bette’s number one album this week.”

 _The_ Bette Midler is one of Carrie’s biggest clients. When Chris was an intern, he made Ms. Midler’s coffee.

It’s still a life highlight.

“Thank you,” she mutters, sipping on her Starbucks. “It was a pretty hectic week on the road so I’m glad to get back to my normal routine.”

One day Chris dreams of having a career like Carrie’s. High-profile clients come with global recognition and accolades, and as a publicist, _that_ is the goal.

“Good morning, everyone,” the company CEO, Kelly, shouts when she enters the room. When everyone does a collective ‘good morning’ back, she continues. “Alright, I have to catch a flight to Paris in an hour so Carrie and I wanted to make this meeting short, sweet and to the point.”

Kelly passes out booklets to everyone at the table.

“Here are the new client assignments. We have thirteen new people joining us at ID that we are very excited about. So, once everyone takes a look at their packets….”

Scrolling through the assignment list like it’s the syllabus for the first day of classes, Chris nervously taps the head of his pen on the table and searches for his name.

_Chris Colfer ––– Darren Criss: Internet personality, Actor, Singer-songwriter_

_(Upcoming events: Debut album set for October release)_

Feeling his eyes blaze anew, his mind paralyzes with confusion. Chris tries not to overreact, but _what the hell?_

He fires up Google on his iPad and searches the name ‘Darren Criss.’ The first link is his official website, and Chris thinks at least this guy has _that_ much. Scanning over his Wikipedia page, he’s surprised he’s never heard of his viral musical based on Harry Potter. He makes a note to look it up later. Other than having a few guest spots on some TV shows that are now cancelled, and releasing an EP, his resume is pretty bare at this point.

That being said, this guy obviously has a following. When Chris clicks on his Twitter page, he gasps at the number of followers, which is a larger amount than some of his clients’ followers _combined._

However that doesn’t mean Chris wants to work with him. He is so far from his typical clientele.

“Okay, since there are no further questions. I’ll see everyone next week. My Blackberry is always on,” Kelly says before strutting out of the room.

Now _that’s_ a strut.

Before Chris has a chance to chat with Kelly about his assignment, she’s already walking into the elevator. Instead he heads into Carrie’s office, ignoring her assistant yelling at him about making an appointment.

“Carrie, you have a second?”

“For you, Chris, I have a minute. This about your assignment? I told Kelly that it would be a good fit for you,” she says far too excitedly.

_Good fit?_

“With all due respect, Carrie, I have to disagree.” Chris takes a seat in front of her dark wood desk. “This Darren guy seems like a perfect client for someone like Charlotte.”

Her eyes flare momentarily in surprise. “Really now? I thought you told me when we hired you that you were up for challenges.”

Chris is almost compelled to answer with the truth that how he doesn’t want to deal with teenagge heartthrob PR work. He’s better than that. So, he lies instead. “I am _always_ up for challenges. This is just a challenge I wasn’t expecting.”

“You know when Kelly came to me with the list of new clients, I thought that Darren would be a good addition to your already impressive clientele. Every person we’ve given you has come out on the other side a bigger star and he will, too, because of you.”

“But Carrie–”

“ _Chris_ ,” her tone is clipped and cool. “You will take on this client and you will make him a star. It’s what you do very well. This is exactly what you need to build up your resume and move up in this company. Plus, spreading your wings a little and doing new things will be good for you. You’ll thank me later, I promise.”

Chris refrains from rolling his eyes at her out of respect so he smiles fakely and heads back to his office, defeated. Charlotte is kicked back, feet up on her desk, when he sees her. Obviously _she’s_ having a good day. He totally forgot to check and see if she got a new assignment.

“Colfer, you look like you locked your keys in your car. Why aren’t you jumping for joy? You got the best person today.”

“You know him?”

“You don’t?” Carrie’s eyes cloud with irritation. “You really need to come out with me some time. We need to expose you to the world a bit more.”

Annoyed, Chris sinks into his desk chair. “I’d prefer to not be exposed, thank you very much. Anyway, what do you know about this Darren guy?”

Charlotte sits up in her chair, searches her desk and then throws a magazine at him.

“That’s him on Billboard last week.”

The headline reads: ‘There’s Something About Darren Criss.’ He’s wearing a beaming, cool, all-teeth-showing smile on the cover and Chris’ heart slams into his mouth. His eyes hover over the stubble on Darren’s chin and his plump lips when he smiles. Chris stops an unwarranted moan from escaping his lips and shakes his head to gather his wits.

He’s good-looking, gorgeous even, but still probably an egotistical musician.

“Fucking hot right?” Charlotte pipes in.

Taking a deep breath, Chris puts the magazine on his desk, not trusting himself to look at the photo any longer.

“He’s alright,” Chris chokes out. “Guess I should do my research and give Mr. Rockstar a call.”

**

Lunch meetings tend to be a bit unproductive.

They’re more about keeping up appearances than getting actual work done, but it’s PR protocol. A new client wants to be wined and dined at some hip NYC hot spot where they can be seen by the paparazzi.

Image is what Chris’ world is about. It’s everything.

That being said, it does get troublesome at times. It’s hard to stay grounded, but thankfully he’s been able to separate himself from his job.

Sadly, he’s very much in job mode right now, sitting at a Thai restaurant in Lower Manhattan awaiting for his new client and his manager.

Chris is still blushing about their interaction on the phone.

He completely made a fool out of himself.

_“You’ve got Darren.”_

_Chris literally stutters at the kooky, ridiculous way a grown man answers his phone._

_“Uh–Hello, this is Chris Colfer from ID PR. I’ve been–”_

_“Oh right,” he interrupts Chris, his lips making a smacking sound as if he’s eating something. “I was told you would be calling. You wanna meet up now?”_

_Chris is glad Charlotte isn’t in the room because he is literally turning red right now. This guy is so brash and pushy. This may be a hard sell._

_“I’ll, eh, have to look at my schedule. One moment please.”_

_Chris puts him on hold and tries to refocus and control his nerves. The fact that this guy is already having this effect on him is unnerving. He inspects his schedule for the day and envisions he could fit a quick meeting around lunch time before tackling everything else on his to-do list for today._

_When Chris clicks back on the line, he’s greeted by Darren singing to whatever song that was playing while on hold._

_“Sittin’ on the dock of the bay, watchin’ the tide roll away,” he continues to sing even though the song is over._

_Chris clears his throat. “Um, so–sorry about that. I can meet with you this afternoon. You can come–”_

_“Cool. We can meet for lunch with my manager,” Darren butts in again. “I know this place in SoHo called Kittchai is ridiculously fucking good. You like Thai food?_

_He’s never had Thai food before, but Chris says: “Of course. I can meet you and your manager there in an hour?”_

Consequently, Chris can’t recall being this high-strung since his last blind date (which was a complete disaster, by the way). His hand twitches as he takes another sip from his Diet Coke and then he hears the door ding, signaling someone new entering. Chris pegs Darren right away based on the photos he’s seen of him. He catches himself checking him out and slaps the imaginary devil on his shoulder.

He is not hot. Keep it professional.

Chris stands up and Darren smiles and waves at him as he walks over to the table. In an attempt to ease his nerves, Chris smooths his hands on his jacket and then sticks one out toward Darren.

“Chris Colfer. Nice to meet you.”

Darren returns the handshake, his look unrecognizable. “Likewise. Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s alright. Your manager still joining us?” Chris asks, taking a seat.

“I just got off the phone with him and he’s tied up in another meeting with the record label. He told us that it’s okay to start without him.”

Chris nods, and his heart is in his mouth again, pounding an electrifying, irregular beat. For some reason, he thought having a third party at the table would cease all of the anxiety.

 _Why am I so fucking nervous?_ Chris thinks.

He overhears Darren talking with their waiter so Chris retrieves his iPad out of his bag to start taking notes. Chris then orders himself something small off the menu and prays that it’s something he’ll actually enjoy.

Then Chris begins his standard speech that he normally gives to new clients. “So, let’s get to business. I can start and tell you a little about myself and what I can bring to the table.”

“There’s no need for that,” Darren says noncommittally before Chris can go on any further. “My manager Ricky and I did our research when Carrie suggested you. I trust that you know what you're doing so we can just skip over the formal shit and get down to the particulars.”

Chris attempts to save face so he stares at his knotted fingers. When he does peek up at Darren, there’s an unrelenting smirk on his face. What’s his deal?

“Sure. Hmm. Tell me about your album, since a lot of what I’ll be doing will revolve around that.”

Darren smiles.

“It’s been a long time comin’, man. I’ve spent the last ten years writing these songs so it’s more about condensing everything I’ve done. I would describe it as nerdy rock ‘n roll. I wouldn’t necessarily call it strictly pop music, but it’s very lyrically catchy. It’s a lot of different worlds wrapped into one. I mean, I listen to _everything_ from Katy Perry and Beyoncé to Arcade Fire and Vampire Weekend. Then, there’s more underground stuff like Walk The Moon and Atlas Genius. You’ve heard of them?”

Chris stares at the words he was able to scribble down. God, he talks a lot, and Chris has no idea where to begin with this guy.

“No, I haven’t heard of them.” He mutters. “Hmm, well, I’m thinking that we should use the fact that you’re so… _diverse_ to your advantage. We can cover a wide range of options when it comes to promotion. Time, however, is not on our side so we’ll have to work quickly. I can have a full five-month plan to you by the end of the week. You’ll go over it with your team and make changes or suggestions and we can go from there.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“That soon? Wow, you're good. That’s awesome.”

For a moment, there’s silence between them, and then their food arrives.

Darren is the first to speak. “I like to get to know my team on a more personal level since we’re going to be working together so closely. What’s your story, Chris?”

 _This_ is one of the many reasons why Chris hates lunch meetings. Once the business is done, it’s time for small talk.

Who likes small talk?

However, Darren appears so awkwardly adorable with silence. He’ll humor himself, and Darren.

“Well, I’ve been with ID for a little over a year, but I interned with the company last year. My clients are–”

Chris pauses when Darren holds up his hand.

“I read your resume, Chris.” Darren holds his gaze. “I know all of that. I wanna know more about _you_.”

Chris gawks at him, confused. _Why does he care?_ Getting to know Darren on a personal level borders on unprofessional. Darren’s closer in age to Chris than his other clients, not to mention that Darren happens to be uncomfortably friendly.

Plus, he would never divulge it out loud, but this is the first significant human interaction that Chris has had (that wasn’t with Charlotte) in a long, long time.

It couldn’t hurt.

**

_**Darren Criss** _

_**2:20 p.m.** _

_Sorry I made you late for your next meeting. I’ll make it up to you when you visit the studio tomorrow. You like cupcakes?_

_**Chris Colfer** _

_**6:45 p.m.** _

_Sorry to just be getting back to you. I was in meetings, one of which I was *really* late for. I blame you getting me started on why Professor McGonagall is my spirit animal._

_**Darren Criss** _

_**6:56 p.m.** _

_I wasn’t aware of the greatness of McGonagall and the dame Maggie Smith. Feel like I need to do another Harry Potter musical to pay tribute to her._

_**Chris Colfer** _

_**7:08 p.m.** _

_After the album release, that would be a good next project. See you tomorrow! (Who doesn’t love cupcakes?)_

Is this flirting?

It’s moments like these that he wishes he had more friends in the city. Chris feels like he’s being inappropriate, but it’s always good to have a second opinion.

Who’s he kidding, though?

Chris spent an incredible afternoon, _flirting_ , with a new client that could make his career. He’s gotta get his shit together.

So like he’s done his entire life, he dives into work to distract him from his real feelings. But of course, on the walk home from the office, he’s left alone with nothing but his feelings and they betray him.

He just can’t get Darren’s laugh out of his head. He could spend all day, every day listening to it. The best part is that Darren doesn’t just _ha-ha laugh_. He throws his head back, his eyes dancing as the infectious sound seems to come straight from his soul.

They talked for nearly an hour too long discussing the basics about each other’s interests. Chris felt a little stupid the whole time, since Darren seems way more interesting than he is. He’s just so at ease all the time; Chris almost envies him.

It’s just a crush.

Chris will leave it at that. Of course he’s attracted to him. Darren is hot, very hot.

_But he’s a fucking client._

The fact repeats in his head when he enters his apartment in Brooklyn, the last place Chris expected himself to be when he used to dream of living in New York. Sure, he’s not living a Carrie Bradshaw life right now, but he’s at least a Miranda.

He retreats to the couch by his main window that oversees the Brooklyn Bridge and tries to get his mind off of anything that isn’t Darren Criss.

Then, his phone vibrates.

_**Darren Criss** _

_**7:19 p.m.** _

_Need your PR opinion: How can I get better at Twitter? I know I suck at it. Fans are always tweeting me to tweet more, but I feel like I have nothing to say that is 140 characters or less. #Twilliterate...wait, is that how you use hashtags?_

Chris laughs out loud. He’s ridiculous.

Before he’s able to text back, his phone pings with a notification that Darren started following him.

_Oh shit._

Rushing to his Twitter app, Chris scrolls through his tweets, wanting to make sure they aren’t completely ridiculous. He sighs when he just sees tweets that are more on the professional side.

_**Chris Colfer** _

_**7:33 p.m.** _

_I normally give my clients a full lecture on proper Twitter etiquette. For now though, I would suggest doing a Twitter Q &A. Tweet that for the next 30 minutes or so, you will answer rapid fire questions. The key is having a hashtag to go along with it and say that you’ll only tweet people who use that tag. Being a trending topic for a *positive* reason is always good PR._

_**Darren Criss** _

_**7:38 p.m.** _

_Fuck. You’re good. Why didn’t I think of that? :) Can I make the hashtag funny like… #DareLearnsTwitter_

Chris rolls his eyes, glad that Darren’s not actually in his presence so he can do it effectively.

_**Chris Colfer** _

_**7:40 p.m.** _

_That works perfectly. Don’t say anything too crazy. Your new publicist doesn’t want to wake up to e-mails of your shenanigans._

_**Darren Criss** _

_**7:49 p.m.** _

_Going to bed already??? It’s so early!_

Frowning, Chris sighs at another reminder about how boring his life really is, especially compared to Darren’s.

Yes, he would prefer to spend an evening catching up with his favorite shows on his DVR with some food truck tacos.

_**Chris Colfer** _

_**7:54 p.m.** _

_I have an early morning. See you tomorrow evening at the studio._

Walking into his bedroom, he plugs his cell phone in to charge and starts to get ready for bed. Chris needs to put his feelings aside and focus on work tomorrow. He’ll give himself a day to process, but when he sees Darren tomorrow, it’s going to be all business.

This thought still rings true when he gets into bed, but then he checks his phone that won’t stop vibrating.

**_Darren Criss_ **

**_8:00 p.m._ **

_See you then. I will have cupcakes!! BTW, sorry if your Twitter is blowing up right now. :)_

“Oh no,” Chris mumbles, fumbling to his Twitter as notifications keep buzzing.

_**DarrenCriss:** @darrenbrasil45 I started tweeting because you guys say I don’t do it enough! Plus my publicist @ChrisColfer suggested a Q &A. U guys should thank him!_

“Oh no,” Chris says again, going to his Twitter page and realizing his follower number has jumped by two hundred.

Chris tries to mask the snarl of annoyance etched on his face. How could he just put him out there like that? His anger dwindles though when he scrolls through the rest of Darren’s tweets.

He giggles, _yes, giggles_ , at most of them. The man is funny.

Being professional may be harder than he thinks.

**

The bastard is good, _really_ good.

His music is a melting pot of a lot of different flavors and styles that somehow form the kooky musical genius that is Darren Criss.

Fifteen minutes in what Darren calls “the lab,” Chris has seen with his own two eyes how Darren operates. He’s like the Energizer Bunny, shuffling from the piano to the guitar, to the audio board, to the recording booth, and then back again.

That explains why Darren’s is a little _much_.

He must always be this wired.

Chris is standing in a corner of the music studio, just observing at first. He isn’t even sure if Darren knows he’s there right now.

He’s in the zone.

At least that’s what his manager Ricky tells him.

“Is he always like this?” Chris shouts to him as the bass of the guitar riff Darren’s working on booms in the room.

Ricky dips his head to the beat and smiles. “Oh yeah, Dare gets like this when he’s getting somethin’ good. He’s been working on this song for days with nothing. Apparently something clicked.”

Chris’ face upturns in a smirk at Darren’s nickname. An unrelenting part of him wants to put it in his back pocket in hopes of saying it one day.

_Dare._

He automatically wonders if calling him something like Dare Bear would be crossing an invisible line.

“Fuck, this song is just beggin’ for crowd precipitation,” Darren hollers when the studio is finally silent. “I want to go out and perform this _now_.” He turns away from the audio board, and catches his breath. He surveys the room for feedback and when he sees Chris, his face almost splits in an over-the-top, outrageous smile.

Chris’ knees nearly gives out.

He thinks he’ll never stop being amazed by Darren’s smile. Honestly, he can’t begin to think why he’d want to.

“Hey, you.” Darren runs, literally _runs_ , to him, engulfing him into a full-body hug. It takes everything in Chris not to inhale his lovely scent. “Glad you made it.”

“Of course,” Chris chokes out, almost too stunned to speak. He’s suddenly embarrassed that everyone in the room is staring at them.

“Everyone, this is my new publicist, Chris,” Darren announces to the room, and then individually introduces Chris to his team. Chris shakes a lot of hands and by the time he’s done the room is almost empty.

How did they leave so fast?

Ricky, Darren and Chris are the only ones left in the studio and for the first time Chris remembers that this is business.

Time to take care of business.

“I’m still developing the five-month promotion plan, which I should have to you both by the end of the week by the way, but I did want to go over a few points with you two.” Chris feels his body language and tone alter in a more professional manner.

Sitting across from Darren at a small table in the studio, Chris can feel his eyes on him. He tries to keep his composure.

“The fact that your album is coming out during the fall award season is a plus for us, for sure,” Chris says. “So that means a lot of red carpets and interviews. We’ll of course go over which ones at a later time, but I wanted to talk to you, Darren, while Ricky was here to go over anything that would be off-limits during interviews.”

“Oh, you know me.” Darren laughs wryly. “I’m an open book.”

 _Of course you are_ , Chris thinks, raising an eyebrow.

“I think Chris is talking about personal questions, Darren,” Ricky tells him.

“For example, we didn’t discuss this during our lunch meeting, but if there’s anything about your past that may pop up in interviews that I should be concerned about, I’d like to know that now so I’ll know how to handle it.”

This is always the hardest part of getting a new client. Chris doesn’t mean to pry or invade anyone’s privacy, but he’s seen enough of his co-workers go into cardiac arrest because a client didn’t tell them about a sex tape they made in college that “somehow” wound up on the Internet.

He has to cover all of his bases.

And by the unsettling look on Darren’s face, Chris prepares for the worst.

“I mean, there might be a few questionable pictures online, from college,” Darren mumbles, acting as if he’s in the principal’s office. “Drunk photos to be exact.”

_Naked photos?_

It’s at the tip of his tongue, but Chris knows he can’t just flat out ask that, despite his maybe more-than-professional interest.

“What kind of photos?”

_That’s better._

Chris sees Ricky tense up as if he doesn’t even know what Darren’s going to say.

“C’mon, guys,” Darren scoffs. “It was the mid-2000s. Everyone was listening to a lot of Nelly’s _Hot in Herre_ and drinking tequila. Shit happens. So, suggestive pictures, that’s all. No nudes. I have _some_ class.”

Ricky chuckles, and Chris stares at his knotted fingers. “I can deal with that.”

“Is there anything else he should know?” Ricky asks.

There is one question that Chris is dying to ask, and partly because of his own selfish reasons. He knows if he asks it in _this_ setting, it’ll come off as a standard publicist-client conversation.

“Are there any girlfriends I should know about?” Chris says, trying to remain professional, even as he feels like fainting. “I don’t mean to dig into your personal life, but as your publicist, this is just one of the standard questions I ask all of my clients.”

But normally not with such vested interest in the answer.

“Or boyfriends we should know about.” Ricky playfully nudges Darren’s shoulder.

If Chris were drinking something, he’d probably do a spit take right about now.

No, this can’t be.

However, Ricky and Darren are in a fit of laughs at their own inside joke and Chris is left lost, until Darren says: “No, there is no girlfriend, or _boyfriend_ , for that matter.”

Chris silently contemplates this information, giving it time to sink in. It’s annoying how embarrassed he feels right now. He can feel his cheeks turning red as his mind floods with questions. Thankfully, Ricky’s phone goes off, breaking the tension. When his eyes flit over Darren’s face quickly from across the table, there’s something in his eyes that he just can’t detect. They’re drop dead gorgeous doe brown eyes that claw at Chris’s heart – but they’re entirely _unreadable_.

“Sorry to keep doing this to you, Chris, but I have another meeting. Let’s get together for lunch next week to talk more about your plans, yeah?”

_Ugh, lunch meetings._

“Of course,” Chris says cheerily, standing from the table and shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Ricky nods, and then turns to Darren. “Behave yourself.” He then gives Chris an odd look before walking out of the room.

What was that about?

Chris and Darren are once again alone and despite the strides they made yesterday, Chris still feels like he shouldn’t be doing this, whatever _this_ is.

“Well, I am fucking starving,” Darren says. “When I’m working late, I order takeout from this Chinese place a few blocks away. Their food is the bomb. You hungry?”

Chris’ heart bursts in his chest. The lines blur as whether this is strictly friendly or if it’s something more.

_No, no, no._

Ignoring the whining emotional side of himself, Chris pushes those thoughts away.

“I actually should really get home.” Chris clears his throat, trying to control his nerve. “It’s getting late.”

Darren squints at him. “Chris, it’s 7:30.”

_Busted._

Hilarity glimmers up in his eyes. “C’mon, I’m gonna be here all night and the one thing I hate is eating alone. Plus, remember, I like to get to know the people I work with.”

He flushes and glances down at his feet. Chris cannot look him in the eye when Darren’s pretty much pouting.

“I just don’t normally stay out late,” Chris whispers. “I work early mornings and stuff.”

“You gotta eat, don’t you?” Darren challenges him, leaning his head to one side, his expression bursting with pride.

Darren does have a point.

He could eat.

“‘kay, I’ll stay.” Chris concedes.

“Perfect!” Darren claps his hands in excitement. “I’ll place the order. You like Kung Pao Chicken?”

Chris mutters something in response that he can’t even remember. His brain is spinning and his heartbeats spikes.

This isn’t a date, it’s _far_ from a date.

Work date, maybe.

Just dinner – that’s what this is.

But a small, reckless part of him desperately wants it to be more.

**

“Is this the rockstar lifestyle everyone talks about? Chinese takeout, vanilla candles, and cheap beer?”

Chris giggles, putting the white container and chopsticks on the table in front of them. He leans back onto the couch and brings his knees to his chest. It took a lot for Darren to convince him to loosen up a little, but Chris is glad he did.

He’s three beers in and feeling good.

“Hey, don’t make fun of my candles. They calm me, help with the inspiration.” Darren stands up and throws what’s left of their mess into the trash. “Another beer?”

Chris gulps the last bit of his Heineken and nods. Darren smiles, teeth showing, and butterflies soar in Chris’ stomach. He knows he crossed the line of professionalism when he cracked open the first beer about an hour ago.

Why stop now?

When Darren sits back down, his arm flings along the back of the couch and Chris can sense his fingertips near his shoulder. They’re sitting _way_ too close.

“So, we were talking about your lack of a social life.” Darren grins, his dark eyes twinkling. “You’ve been in New York for this long and still haven’t found your groove?”

As if on cue, Chris blushes.

“Eh, I don’t know.” He shrugs, trying to appear casual when he’s actually a bundle of jitters. “I’m a work horse, been keeping myself busy. I’ve, uh, never been the party type. I don’t have, like, drunk college photos online or anything.”

Darren rolls his eyes. “I was fucking waiting for you to bring that up!”

“Hey!” Chris holds up his hands in defense. “I waited a while before saying something.”

“Is that why you wanted to leave right after the meeting so you could go home and Google Image me?”

“Of–of course not. Why would I, uh, do that?” Chris stutters, pulling his knees closer to his chest even though there’s nowhere for them to go.

Then that over-the-top, infectious laugh falls from Darren’s mouth, and it takes Chris’ breath away. At that moment, Chris know he’s done for. He’s falling, head first, into whatever _this_ is. It’s becoming all too much, and maybe it’s the beer talking, but he needs to find an escape route.

“Are you dating anyone right now?” Darren asks noncommittally.

_What?_

“Excuse me?” Chris barely chokes out. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Chris pulls away, scooting to the opposite end of the couch. His head is swimming and his has never felt this overwhelmed.

“It’s only fair, no? You asked me the same question earlier.”

“That was business, Darren.”

“Was it?”

Chris gawks at Darren’s raised brow. He’s so cocky and confident. It’s unnerving.

Why does he challenge him?

“I should go.” Chris’ voice is soft and low, giving him away.

“Wait, no.” Darren grabs his arm and the contact makes Chris’ heart sink. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I’ll assume your reaction means that you’re with someone.”

“No,” Chris spits out. “No, I’m not. I’m single, _very_ single.”

The words come out of his mouth and Chris wants nothing more than to hit the rewind button.

“That’s surprising, actually.” Darren smiles shyly, taking Chris offguard.

Is this guy for real?

He can’t be.

The blood drains from his head and sears in his veins as Darren’s glare at him shifts to something darker. His breathing is heavier and Chris can just feel the tension pool low in his belly.

Then, when Darren’s eyes move back and forth from his lips to his neck, Chris fully understands how much trouble he’s in.

“I should really get–”

Chris is interrupted by Darren leaning forward and taking his bottom lip softly between his teeth. _Holy shit_ , Chris thinks, his mind flooding with profanities. It takes far too long for his brain to catch up with what is actually happening, but it’s too late. His heart and hormones take over.

It’s been so long since Chris has kissed someone and damn, he’s been missing out.

When Darren moans into the kiss, Chris is officially a goner. He senses Darren’s fingers resting in his hair and his thumb gently drawing circles under his earlobe. The sensation is almost too much – _almost_.

Chris is feeling bold all of a sudden so he lets his tongue trace the crease between Darren’s lips and Darren parts them, willingly. His tongue invades Chris’ mouth as he pulls him as close to him as physically possible. Darren places his hand behind Chris and somehow hoists him up and onto his lap.

“Oooh,” Chris whimpers aimlessly against Darren’s lips.

Darren drops his head to Chris’ throat and sucks the hollow between his collarbones and Chris finally has a moment to breathe.

 _What the hell am I doing?_ Chris thinks.

This isn’t him. He doesn’t kiss guys he barely knows. Truthfully, he hasn’t kissed any guys at all as of late, especially a _client_.

Fuck.

“Darren, stop,” Chris whispers, sitting up.

Friction in his jeans sends unneeded shockwaves through his bones. He’s hard, and he can tell that Darren is too.

Chris needs a cold shower, stat.

“Wait, why are we stopping?” Darren asks, his eyes wide.

“Because I work for you!” Chris shouts, so loud that the pitch scares him. “I work for you.” His response is held tight, barely coming out through his nerves. “And this is completely wrong and unprofessional.”

Darren smirks, and Chris rolls his eyes. _This is not the time, Darren._

“Unprofessional, maybe. Wrong, I’d beg to differ.”

His annoyingly goofy smile makes Chris want to claw his eyes out. He needs to leave.

Chris grabs his bag and jacket and runs out of the door, leaving Darren’s shouts behind him. It’s not until Chris gets to the subway that he’s finally alone with his feelings again.

“Shit,” he mumbles, and the lady with the briefcase next to him gives him a judgemental look.

 _I’ve had a bad night, lady,_ Chris almost snaps.

Those butterflies in his stomach are long gone. He feels empty and sick. He needs to count down the subway stops to his apartment to combat the urge to throw up.

Whatever professional relationship he needed to have with Darren is ruined. He might as well tell Carrie to give Darren to another publicist in the morning.

Can he get fired for this?

Charlotte will love her own office.

**

When Chris makes it to work the next morning, Charlotte asks if he’s hungover. He almost humors her and says yes. Not like he’d be lying. He wasn’t hungover after the few beers he had, but rather after a night of being high on Ambien, and then tossing and turning in his bed.

It was a nightmare.

His phone buzzes on his desk and he rolls his eyes. It’s Darren. He’s been calling him nonstop since he ran out of the studio last night.

Chris hasn’t answered. He doesn’t need to. It doesn’t matter what Darren had to say. Chris has already fucked things up to the point of no return.

That isn’t stopping him from being curious, however, especially when he sends a text instead of calling.

_**Darren Criss** _

_**10:05 a.m.** _

_Guess you’re continuing to ignore me. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that things got out of hand last night. I thought we were on the same page and you were sending me vibes…. I must’ve misread the signs. I hope we can go back to being friends, man._

“What signs?” Chris mumbles to himself.

Then, suddenly, he _knows._

The blushing, the giggles, not being able to keep his eyes off of him – the answers overwhelm him.

Chris thought the boyfriend comment by his manager was a joke. Maybe it wasn’t.

His blood boils with uncertainty and Chris can’t hold it in anymore.

“Charlotte, can I ask you something?” Chris turns in his chair to look at his officemate who is painting her nails.

She’s _obviously_ busy.

“Yes, Colfer, you should get a cat,” Charlotte announces. “You don’t seem like a dog person.”

Chris sighs. “No, not that. Uh, have you–have you ever crossed the line with a client?”

Charlotte narrows her blue eyes at him, and Chris knows he’s in for it.

“I knew it!” She yells clapping her hands. Chris can just _feel_ the entire office become silent at the noise. “Is this about _Darren_?”

The way she says his name sends his heart fluttering.

It’s aggravating.

Chris puts his head in his hands and is tempted to put his head between his legs and do the deep breathing exercises he picked up in high school.

Not always the best way to combat the bullies, though.

Chris clears his throat, trying to control his nerves. “I messed up.”

Charlotte raises her brow.

“Tell me everything. How was the sex?”

_What?_

“Uh, no. We didn’t--It didn’t get _that_ far.” Chris scoffs.

“Oh, so it did go kind of far. You need to spill,” she says with determination.

Chris gets up with a start and shuts their office door. He locks it for good measure.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and says, “We kissed.”

Charlotte gasps.

“You made out with Darren Criss.”

“Uh, yeah.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Chris Colfer! How are you so calm? He is a dreamboat!” Her tone is categorically confused by Chris’ major freakout.

“Why aren’t you–? I’m lost.”

She shakes her head. “You didn’t _really_ research him, did you? You gotta dig into your clients, Colfer. Everyone knows Darren is ‘open’ to anything.’”

Chris frowns at her air quotes. Maybe he didn’t prepare himself enough.

“I have to drop him as a client, Charlotte.” Chris slumps into his desk chair. “You should take him on.”

Laughing, Charlotte’s eyes are beaming through her dark colored specs.

“Oh, no.” She puts her hands up. “You need this. When was the last time you got laid, honestly?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Either way, you can’t just drop him. This is a great opportunity for you. If you do this right, and he brings a lot of money to the firm, this is the kind of stuff that can move you up to senior executive.”

Charlotte is rarely this logical, so her comments kind of take him by surprise, but she has a point. He can’t let one slip-up ruin his career.

“You’re right.” Chris pauses. “I hope I never have to say that again.”

Charlotte laughs.

“Good. So you’re going to see him again?” She raises her brow in a suggestive manner.

“Uh, no. Strictly professional. You’re right about me not letting this stop what could be my big break.”

“Well, I also meant you should give him a try because-”

“Uh huh. Stop while you’re ahead. I have work to do.”

Chris turns back to his laptop as he hears Charlotte let out a huge puff of frustration. He ignores that she’s probably right about the _other_ thing too. Darren is the first guy in a very, very, long time that Chris has felt any interest in.

That probably means something.

Just not that he and Darren should run off into the sunset together, more like it’s now safe for Chris to put himself out there every now and then.

**_Chris Colfer_ **

**_11:02 a.m._ **

_I just needed time to think. We’re good. Let’s just try and forget what happened and move on as friends and colleagues to get your amazing career to the next level. I’ll be in touch._

**

It’s been two weeks since _The Kiss_ and things are pretty much back on track.

Chris hasn’t been alone with Darren since though. He makes a point to be surrounded by people when he’s on Darren-related assignments.

At a press junket for Darren’s first single, Charlotte is his barrier.

These junkets can be overwhelming. They require the client be locked in a hotel room for over twelve hours doing countless radio, print and TV interviews from media outlets around the globe.

They’re _especially_ hard when said client strolls in half an hour late, complaining about a blistering hangover.

Thankfully, Charlotte is there to help. She’s obviously had more hangovers than the average frat boy so she whips something together that has Darren chipper as ever, bouncing off the walls.

Chris hopes she didn’t give him any illegal drugs.

“So how many of these interviews am I scheduled for?” Darren asks, fidgeting in the hair and makeup chair.

“A fuckin’ butt load,” Charlotte blurts out from across the room, eyes glued to her phone.

Chris snarls at her, even though she’s not even looking at him to acknowledge it.

“We have at least twenty radio interviews, around a dozen or so print interviews, and a few television interviews. Nothing you can’t handle.”

Chris lies, looking up into the mirror at Darren’s reflection, because telling him the actual number would discourage him.

“You realize your lying face doesn’t work on me.”

The blood boils in Chris’ veins as he feels himself blush shyly at Darren’s words.

_Oh, no._

“Alright, if we could have you ready to go in fifteen minutes, we won’t be completely off schedule,” Chris informs him, a little too shouty and far too aggressively. He blames it on nerves. “Charlotte, let’s get everything ready out here.”

Chris walks into the main part of the hotel room where everything is laid out to perfection. He’s had this planned for days so there isn’t much left to do now, but he just can’t be in that room with Darren anymore.

“Do you make a habit of lying to your clients?” Charlotte asks.

“Well, no I don’t,” he says sternly. “But with Darren, you have to be careful. It’s like dealing with a toddler sometimes. Everything is on a need-to-know basis.”

Charlotte makes one of those _‘Oh, you can’t fool me’_ sounds that annoys Chris. He’s trying to play it cool, but it’s easier to do that around people that don’t know about _The Kiss._

Maybe inviting her to help wasn’t the best idea.

That withstanding, the girl is good at what she does, and her ability to rangle up reporters like they’re cattle is extraordinary.

Darren is pretty great, too.

He’s just so personable on camera, like he’s having a one-on-one conversation with the people on the other end of the lens.

“Now since the first single is called ‘Picture Perfect Girl,” the female reporter comments in a high-pitched voice, “I _have_ to ask. Is there a picture perfect girl in your life right now?”

Chris rolls his eyes at the question that Darren’s already been asked a million times today.

Darren laughs almost shyly, eyelashes hitting his cheeks in that way.

“Oh, isn’t that the million dollar question?” His million dollar smile to match the remark sets the reporter into a fit of giggles. “There isn’t a picture perfect _person_ in my life, but hey, who knows what the future might hold?”

_Person?_

Darren’s eyes shift quickly to Chris’ direction then back to the reporter for her follow-up question.

Chris ignores the green, ugly and very real monster on his shoulder and pulls out his cell phone to take a picture.

Since the whole Twitter shoutout fiasco, his bosses at ID PR have developed a newfound interest in all things social media. Now, when publicists are out with a client for business purposes, it’s pretty much a requirement to post a photo or something online.

Branding the client results in branding the company.

At least that’s what Kelly told everyone in a meeting a few days ago.

So, he snaps a quick photo of Darren being interviewed and posts it to his Instagram. And like always, the moment it’s posted, his phone is constantly buzzing.

Darren’s fans are _passionate_ , to say to least. “He’s really incredible in front of the camera, don’t ya think?” Charlotte whispers as she and Chris stand in the corner of the hotel room, listening in on what may be Darren’s hundredth interview so far. Attempting to not be swept away by Darren’s smile, Chris turns to Charlotte. “He is charming. The media loves him.”

“What about you?”

Chris narrows his eyes at her angrily, glancing quickly to make sure no one else is around them. He grabs her arm and pulls her out of the room and huffs, “We talked about this. You can’t say things like that.”

It’s too early for an argument.

“Okay, let me be honest. I agreed to help you out today in hopes of talking some sense into you. You’ve been mopey lately, more than normal at least and we _both_ know why.”

Chris almost wants ask her to leave, but when he looks down at his watch, he realizes it’s not even noon and they have a million more interviews to deal with; he knows he needs her help.

Plus, the unemotional side of him knows she has a point.

“You may be right, but this is not the time nor the place for this conversation,” Chris whispers, even though they’re alone in the hotel hallway. “How about you help me out today and then afterwards I’ll let you take me to one of those bars you always talk about? Then, we can discuss this.”

Charlotte beams with an unwavering smile. “Really? Fuckin’ fantastic.”

Chris makes a note to schedule in a late start tomorrow because by the look on her face, he may be as hungover as Darren was.

Speaking of, with perfect timing, Chris hears the hotel door squeak out and Darren peeps his head out. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

Darren’s voice is faint and his eyes are in puppy-like territory. Chris’ heart sinks to the plush carpet floor.

“N–no. O–one second,” Chris stumbles through his words and forces an unconvincing smile on his face.

Charlotte chuckles lightly next to him.

Damn her.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she mutters, and before Chris can yank her back into her position, she’s already back in the room.

Suddenly, for some unknown reason, the walls around Chris start to close in. His breathing changes drastically as Darren walks in what seems like slow motion, until he’s standing in front of him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Darren almost growls, the intense tone is unsettling.

“No, I haven’t,” Chris utters breathlessly, looking down at him.

Darren licks his lips, almost nervously, which takes Chris by surprise.

He’s never nervous.

“Yes,” Darren accuses. “Yes, you have. Why? I thought–We worked things out, yeah?”

Chris fiddles with the ends of his sleeve. “We did. I’m sorry. I’m trying to act as normal as possible, but I just can’t–”

“Stop thinking about our kiss? Me either,” Darren butts in with a huge smile on his face.

“Uh, no. I just can’t be alone with you right now. It’s not, just, not a good idea.”

Darren’s eyes widen and his lips form into a frown. It’s then that Chris realizes that he hurt his feelings. A ping of guilt hits his stomach and Chris takes two steps back.

“Why can’t you let this go, Darren?” Chris asks, fiercely striving to keep himself together. He knows he can’t liquefy into jelly because of his urge to just have _one moment_ where he can really act on his impulses.

Darren blinks, running a hand through his somehow perfectly curled locks. “I’m just, um, not used to rejection, I guess. I thought there was a connection there that night and I really like–”

“Darren,” Charlotte’s voice interrupts the tense moment. “The next interview is ready.”

Chris quips up first. “He’ll be a minute.” Thankfully, Darren’s back is to Charlotte so he can’t see the ridiculous wink she makes before walking back into the room.

Chris swallows when Charlotte is out of sight and leans against the cold hotel wall, staring at his feet.

Darren’s words from before derail him a bit. He likes _him?_

How is that even possible?

He has to make sure. Chris is in no need to repeat mistakes from his life pre-New York.

“What were you going to say?”

Darren peeks up at him, and then strolls confidently to Chris, closing the gap between them. He presses his arm up against the wall close to Chris’ ear, and the tension returns.

“I really like you,” he murmurs, a trace of anxiety in his voice. “I think about you all the fucking time. It’s so aggravating.”

The burning in his eyes and the underlying heat in his tone makes Chris’ heart skip a beat; he has to bite his bottom lip to stop a moan from escaping.

“I’ve never met anyone who pushes me like you do. It’s so frustrating but, like, so fucking _hot_ ,” he finishes, his eyes beaming back and forth from Chris’ eyes to his lips.

Chris is seething, annoyed that Darren’s words affect him more than he’d ever admit. All of his body pangs with a unfamiliar hankering to jump him.

Darren’s about to kiss him, and Chris knows it; he _wants_ it. But the logical side of his brain knows that can’t happen, at least not here.

Yet he has to give Darren something. If not, they’ll continue on in this agonizingly repetitive circle.

Maybe he should just give in and see what happens; maybe some people are worth being vulnerable for.

“I really like you, too, though I've tried my damndest not to. Then you fucking kissed me and I blew it.”

Chris takes a deep breath of relief, a weight he didn’t know was there suddenly lifting from his shoulders. Telling the truth feels better than he imagined.

“You didn’t blow it. That’s great news,” Darren exclaims before lunging forward to capture Chris’ lips.

The kiss is rushed and messy, and so _hot_. He plants featherlight kisses on his neck and that’s when Chris really gives in. The delicate faint kisses aren’t enough. Chris wants something more forceful like the kiss in the studio, but this exchange is laced with something _different._

A sense of time finally comes back to Chris and he, against his better judgement, breaks away. Their breath mingles together, both of them obviously wanting more.

“Chris,” Darren breathes. “You’re becoming my weakness.”

“Likewise,” Chris laughs. “We should, uh, get back to work.”

“Yeah, work. Let’s do that, or we go back to doing this.” Darren pecks his lips once more and Chris smiles big, their teeth clicking.

“No matter how much I’d like to keep doing that, we _both_ have work to do. C’mon.” Chris grabs Darren’s hand to pull him toward the door and the brief moment their fingers are intertwined, Chris’ knees become shaky, and he’s pretty sure Darren can hear his heartbeat.

He isn’t falling anymore.

He’s tripping all over the place.

**

Concerts aren’t _really_ Chris’ thing.

Musical theatre, duh.

Celine Dion in Vegas, abso-fucking-lutely.

But there is something about most live music that doesn’t connect with him. It’s probably the crowded rooms, loud sounds, and honestly the artists never sounding like they do on the album. It’s totally a disappointment.

That being said, Chris begrudgingly finds himself in a surprisingly comfortable VIP section with Charlotte at the Terminal 5, which she says is _the_ hot spot in Hell’s Kitchen.

She’s about four vodka tonics deep, and Chris isn’t too far behind.

“You’re totally gonna like this band. They’re one of my coolest clients,” Charlotte declares.

“You say that about all your clients.”

“That’s true,” she laughs, eying the entrance.

She seems antsy, more than normal.

Something’s up.

“What’s going on?”

She exhales. “Will you stop worrying?” Her laugh takes Chris by surprise. She’s normally not so giddy. “Nothing. I’m just glad we’re finally hanging out. Today was fun, minus the little awkwardness with you and Darren. How did that work out for you?”

After the brief kisses in the hotel hallway, it was back to business. However, the tension between them erased. Darren was his normal, perfect, flirty self and Chris was, well, awkward as ever.

It works for them, apparently.

He is kind of annoyed that they didn’t have a conversation about where they stand now, since Darren was rushed away to a recording session right afterwards. Chris hopes to get in touch with him tomorrow to figure it out.

A decision needs to be made soon and Chris has no earthly idea where his heart lies. This back and forth will be the death of him.

“Things are good, Charlotte. Just like I said four times on the drive here.” Chris doesn’t want to think about Darren right now. There are way too many unanswered questions. He just wants to have a good time because, honestly, this is the first he’s been at a club in far too long.

“All I know he is just can’t fucking keep his eyes off of you,” Charlotte mentions. “He clings to you like a teenage girl at an N*SYNC concert.”

“Wouldn’t it be more like a One Direction concert?”

Her eyes narrow as she finishes her drink, then glances at the bar. “How dare you put them in the same category. I’m going to grab another drink. Want one?”

Chris nods, watching Charlotte stroll to the bar on the other end of the VIP section. He judges the arena as people start to file in. This is totally not his scene. He’s never really heard of this band _Magic!_ but Charlotte played their big song on the drive over so at least Chris will know the chorus to that song.

When Charlotte returns with another round of vodka-filled drinks, she leads him to the front of the section to stand against the railing. From there, Chris can better witness the sea of people in the place.

Thank God for alcohol or he’d be a bit claustrophobic.

After the opening act, another band Chris has never heard of, Charlotte decides it’s time for shots. In true Charlotte fashion, she throws back two shots of whiskey while Chris attempts to tackle one.

When he finally takes the last drop, shivers run down his spine and his blood tingles.

“Jesus, that took a fucking lifetime!” she shouts as the room is much louder than before. “Let’s stick to vodka tonics from now on. Two more please!” she tells the bartender putting a round on her table.

Chris is surprisingly having more fun than he thought he would. Charlotte is a spitfire to hang out with and ridiculously funny. When she’s not meddling in his personal life, they could be friends.

They return to their spot that magically forms when Charlotte pushes her way to the front like she owns the place.

She probably does because everyone they’ve come in contact with knows her name. So it doesn’t surprise him when he hears someone shout her name from the middle of the crowd.

Then his heart flutters when he looks around and realizes that it’s Darren, those familiar curls flopping onto his forehead.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Chris whispers, attempting to keep the casual smile on his face despite the rush of uncertainty inside.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says almost too casually.

Darren’s surrounded by a group of people that Chris doesn’t recognize. His eyes refocus to Darren who’s dressed in a simple red and black plaid shirt, gray jacket and hipster-like black framed glasses.

Now he fits in with the crowd.

His group make their way to Chris and Charlotte and all eyes are on him for a moment until Charlotte comes in and hugs everyone.

Chris gathers his thoughts and introduces himself to Darren’s friends, Joey, Brian and Ben, who Chris recognizes quickly because of his theatre background.

He can’t help but wonder if Darren’s briefed his friends on their history. They at least seem to know that Chris is Darren’s publicist because they mention Darren’s bitchiness after that day of interviews that Chris had forced on him.

“Oh, is he becoming a diva already? It happens when you book the cover of _Rolling Stone_.”

Joey snorts. “He talked about that for hours after you called him that one day. He’s already picking outfits.”

“Can you guys stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Darren pops into the conversation, shoving his way next to Chris. “We aren’t here to talk about me. My boys are about to do a fucking fantastic show.”

“You know the band?” Chris asks.

“Oh, yeah. We record in the same studio. They’re really good,” Darren says to the group, but only looks at Chris.

Darren’s smile reaches his eyes and Chris can’t help but grin back.

He probably looks ridiculous.

_Ugh._

Music starts to play from behind them and the crowd goes wild on cue. Chris has a perfect view of the stage, curling his fingers on the railing and looking below at the large mass of people.

He’s kicking himself about not bringing ear plugs when he feels a pair of arms snake around his waist. Chris nearly jumps out of the embrace and turns around to see Darren smirking at him.

“What?”

“There are cameras here, Darren,” Chris mumbles back, trying not to bring attention to himself.

Darren rolls his eyes and sighs. “Alright, alright.”

When Chris turns back around, somehow Charlotte has another round of drinks in her hand.

_How is she doing this?_

Chris should probably slow down a bit, but he knows that Charlotte would make a soap opera-style scene if he did. So he decides to drink this one slower than the others.

“Be nice,” she whispers to him when handing him his glass. “He likes you.”

“I know that, but we can’t–not in public, y’know?” Chris can feel the cameras around him. He knows how this works. They’re in a public place, with press, and Darren, no matter how much he plays the ‘I’m just a normal dude’ thing, he’s a celebrity.

A photo of him is worth major cash and a photo of him hanging all over a guy, who also happens to be his publicist, is tabloid gold.

Could he spin it?

He’s good, but he doesn’t think he’s _that_ good.

Instead, he aims his attention to the band who has taken the stage, and Chris starts to groove a bit to the island tunes.

He deserves to have fun tonight so he gives in and moves his hips back and forth.

“Look at you, Colfer!” Charlotte whistles and joins him in dancing.

For that song, he’s completely lost and never felt better. Chris hasn’t laughed that full body laugh since he moved to New York, but he is finally having fun. He thought that word didn’t exist in his world anymore.

When he finally comes back down to reality, he realizes that Darren’s been standing next to him the entire time. His eyes are jolting and he looks a bit stupefied. Chris would normally blush in embarrassment, but this time, he’s filled with confidence.

So he smirks in Darren’s direction and shifts back and forth to the music while sipping his drink. Chris has never been good at playing hard to get, but it feels good to try.

Chris senses Darren leaning against him, his breath hot on his ear. “The best part is you don’t even know how hot you are.”

Eyes blazing, Darren gives him a sexy smile at Chris’ wide-eyed reaction. The unnerving effect he has on Chris is mind-blowing and immediate. In lieu of a response, Chris’ trembling fingers release the railing and slide shakingly down Darren’s arm, taking his hand. Then Chris clasps their fingers together.

Darren’s hands are calloused and rough and Chris’ mind instantly wanders to how they would feel digging into his skin.

“That’s better,” Darren says authoritatively.

And suddenly the pressure fades.

Chris welcomes his heart contracting achingly in his chest at the newness of it all. He’s doing too many things that he would never do all at once, but surprisingly, he loves it.

Carrie’s right. Spreading his wings and embracing new opportunities _is_ good for him. At least for now.

He’s never felt better.


End file.
